


Podcasts and Meal Boxes

by crystalkei



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: a missing scene from 2x02





	Podcasts and Meal Boxes

She was sore. That kind of sore that felt good and made you want to stretch. The kind of sore that came from being close and forgetting all your problems.

 

But the problems still existed. She was still trapped, just in a bigger cage.

 

Nick was running his fingertips along her collarbone, almost without pattern, like he was doing it in his sleep, but as she came to, the more he seemed to as well. His touches becoming more rhythmic, but more gentle, if that was even possible. Sometimes she felt like his touch might let her float away, leave this plane of existence where life was a nightmare and be somewhere else.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, she glanced over at him but his eyes weren’t even open. His lips touched the skin of her shoulder when he spoke, the warmth of his breath felt like home.  

 

“You weren’t too rough, you followed my lead, like always, and it was great,” June said, her hand fitting over his.

 

“That’s not what I was apologizing for.” Still, his eyes were closed, but he’d entwined his fingers with hers.

 

“I think going down on me was a good use of you being too tired to go on.”

 

He opened his eyes and looked at her seriously, her light tone wasn’t funny to him. “June.”

 

She shrugged and looked away, suddenly the desk nearest her was interesting. Maybe there was gum under the top?

 

“I’m sorry I can’t whisk you away. I’m sorry I don’t know where Hannah is and I’m sorry you have to stay here for a while.”

 

Nick would have waited all night for a response from her but she didn’t want him to. She didn’t want to think about any of this. Maybe she could roll over, straddle him, and forget again, fuck him into exhaustion and pretend none of this was real.

 

But he deserved more than being used to pretend.

 

“I had this crazy idea. That’d we’d run away, that we’d get Hannah and run to Canada, there might be a close call or two, but we’d get there safely and that would be that. I’d be free and whole and-“

 

“I’m sorry it can’t be like that.” His hands cupped her cheek, his tenderness making her dizzy. “I wanted it too. But I had to take this chance to get you out. If you weren’t pregnant  maybe we could have waited, but you pulled that shit with Janine.”

 

She glared, ready to fight again. “That shit? You mean not stoning my friend to death?”

 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He grabbed for her arm while she tried to sit up. “I’m sorry. I understand why you did it. It’s just hard to get handmaids out, even harder when they make themselves the face of an uprising. I'm just trying to keep you safe. “

 

“I thought this was the first time you’d done this.” She tried to hold her anger but she couldn’t, she was too tired and he was too sincere.

 

“First time I ever contacted mayday and everything,” Nick said with a shrug.

 

“You did that for me?” She just assumed he’d already been in contact with them.

 

“Keeping you safe is my number one priority.” He glanced at his gun. “You don’t know how to shoot do you?”

 

June shook her head. She remembered the feel of the gun in her hand hours before when he handed it to her. Nick stood up and went rummaging for his pants.

 

“Get dressed, you need to learn.” He rarely gave her commands, he always let her lead, but he was serious and his face was set, and he was right, so June grabbed her shirt (his shirt) and pulled on her panties.

 

They passed the wall in the production bay and June tried not to look at it. She’d taken great care to avoid the spot since she’d first discovered it. Nick paused, but not so much that she had to slow her pace behind him. He glanced at it, looked down at the shoe without a mate and his hand lifted to his chest as if he might cross himself. He didn’t but the simple almost of it made June consider that he was once religious. It seemed insane that anyone who could live in Gilead could recall a faith before this monstrous one. Then again, maybe she was imagining things, June made a mental note to ask him if he was raised Catholic like she was.

 

Just as she was sure Nick was lost, they came to a sound booth. He took stock of the glass, the doors, before going inside to push on the insulation. June ran her fingers over the soundboard delicately.

 

“I think this was used for podcasts,” she said as he moved office chairs out of the room.

 

“I never cared for podcasts, NPR had talk radio 24/7, who needed _more_ talk radio?” He tossed the final chair and went to inspect the back wall.

 

June smiled at him. “Podcast ads were the worst. Electric toothbrushes and mattresses, those meal planning services. What was that one called?”

 

Nick looked back at her, biting his lip. “Blue Apron!” he said in an aha tone.

 

“And Hello Fresh!” she countered.

 

He laughed and June wanted to live in the sound. She played a game with herself often: what would this relationship look like without Gilead? This was one of the moments she would file away. The two of them bickering over which meal planning service to get. June had a coupon code from a podcast she listened to but Nick preferred the recipes from the opposing box. It was mundane and delightful all at the same time.

 

“Okay so you’re going to square up your shoulders at the thing you’re going to aim for.” He was in front of her, moving her hips gently and bringing her back to the reality where he was teaching her to shoot to kill instead of arguing over organic meals.

 

“Why are you doing this?” June asked.

 

“You don’t know how,” he answered, misunderstanding.

 

“No, I mean, why did you get me out?” It was terrifying to ask but she had to know.

 

Nick scoffed. “How could I not?”

 

“What because you knocked me up?” It was a joke but also a fear.

 

He looked at her confused briefly, he smiled a little and shook his head. “I have to keep you safe. You’re in me now and I can’t get you out. My insides scream for you. I-” he stopped short but June could guess.

 

She couldn’t stop staring at him, as if the words were foreign. She understood but she couldn’t believe it.

 

He didn’t give her time to say anything else. Nick ran his thumb under her chin before leaning in to kiss her forehead and then he looked back at the makeshift target he’d marked on the wall. It was in sharpie, a giant X.

 

“Feet planted, shoulder’s width apart,” he went on but June grabbed his neck and kissed him, it was soft and for all her vigor when she slammed into him, her lips barely brushed his, over and over again.

 

“Sorry,” she whispered as she pulled away.

 

He was out of breath and she could feel him dig his fingers into her lower back, like he wasn’t ready to let her go. There were too many feelings she didn’t want to confront right now, everything was too messy, but maybe he got the idea. Hopefully he understood.

 

Nick leaned his forehead against hers, closed his eyes, and let out a heavy sigh. But just as he was about to speak, his watch went off. She’d never heard an alarm from it.

 

His shoulders slumped and he pulled away barely, before turning it off, annoyed. “I turned the GPS on the car off for the night, but it will automatically turn back on in an hour so I have to go.”

 

“Guess you can teach me to shoot next time.” She was trying to be chill about him leaving, but her stomach sank.

 

“Walk me to the car, I’m giving you a pistol, you can practice while I’m gone.”

 

“You didn’t even-?”

 

He interrupted her, “Square your shoulders, point, and shoot on the exhale.” As he explained, he turned his body, picked up the gun from the soundboard, flipped off the safety and pulled the trigger in a motion that could have been ballet to June.

 

The gun clicked, empty, but she knew he’d have hit the target easily.

 

“Show off,” she said, standing on her tiptoes and leaning over his shoulder to his ear.

 

He turned and kissed her again, just a peck, before taking her hand, something he’d never really done, (where were they going to walk hand in hand?) to walk her back to the car.

 

Everything was still horrible and now he was leaving so it was worse, but she felt buoyed, less trapped. Once she got out, she’d need to get Hannah out. And she’d need to get him out. Because he was inside her too. There wasn’t any point fighting it.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm working on the other thing but also, enjoy this! and find me on tumblr at cupcakesandtv
> 
> And HUGE shoutout to Tina for plastering the walls of our dumpster with pretty gifs and writing things that make me squeal.


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